


How to Kiss Draco Malfoy in 10 Days

by QueenofThyme



Series: How to Apologise to Harry Potter in 10 Days [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Drarry, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofThyme/pseuds/QueenofThyme
Summary: Draco Malfoy turns up at Harry Potter's office unexpectedly, bringing with him a mess of feelings and emotions Harry isn't particularly prepared to deal with so they end up falling into old familiar patterns instead. All Harry wants to do is kiss Draco Malfoy. Why is it so hard?





	1. Day One: Monday

It’s just another week in the office like any other for Harry Potter. An endless amount of new cases on his desk to review, and even more older cases he is yet to complete the paperwork for. Another week of trying to play catch up but never quite getting close. It’s not that the job is all bad, but when Harry became an auror, he did expect more field work and less paperwork, _far_ less paperwork. Still, for the most part, he enjoys what he does.

“Knock, knock, Auror Potter.”

Harry looks up to find a familiar face at his door. “Hermione! You managed to sneak away from Mr Skittington?”

Hermione rolls her eyes from where she leans against Harry’s doorway. “He has a personal appointment so I’m finally free, if only momentarily.” Hermione has been working as an assistant to the recently appointed Minister for Muggleborn Reintegration, a role created to help heal the damage done by the Ministry of Magic during the war. Although Harry believes Hermione would make a much better Minister than Skittington, and he suspects Hermione secretly believes the same.

“Freedom is eluding me. Everything just keeps on piling up.” Harry gestures to the towering stack of papers on his desk that has had to use magic on to stay standing.

Hermione frowns. “Perhaps the auror office is understaffed. I’ll have a discussion with the Minister of Magical Law Enforcement. Even if they can only spare enough budget for administration assistants, rather than field workers, I can imagine it would still be helpful.”

That is just like Hermione. She has been working in the Ministry for less than a month and already she knows all the Ministers, knows the lay of the land, and frankly, knows much more than Harry does, despite him working here for almost a year longer. Not that he is resentful. Not at all. He is actually quite pleased (and chuffed) to be best friends with someone he thinks might be early on their path to becoming Minister of Magic.

“Thank you. How would the Ministry run without you?”

Hermione laughs and waves her hand dismissively at this, but Harry can tell she is pleased with the compliment. “I won’t keep you long, just wanted to see if you were free - excuse my choice of words -  for lunch today? Ron will be in after twelve.”

Harry looks back to his stack of paperwork. “I don’t know. I really need to get – “

“A lunch break is a legal working requirement and not taking one puts your employers at risk, at least in muggle law anyway.” Hermione pauses, clearly no longer focusing on Harry. “Actually that’s another thing I should have explicitly written into magical law.” She pulls out a thick notebook and adds a quick neat scrawl to it. “You wouldn’t believe the things it doesn’t cover.”

“I’ll still eat, I just don’t have time to – “

“Harry,” Hermione warns.

Harry gives in early. He already knows how persuasive Hermione can be, so there’s no point drawing it out. That’s one of the reasons he knows she’ll be able to travel up the Ministry chain easily.

“Fine. Lunch. But I really need to focus on work now.” Harry says with a sigh. “Sorry,” he adds when he realises he may be directing some of his frustration at Hermione unnecessarily.

“No need. I have to get back anyway. I’ll see you at lunch.” Hermione retreats and leaves Harry alone with his paperwork. He sighs. It has to be done. He takes a brief look at his muggle watch where it sits on his wrist next to his magical one – a gift from Molly Weasley. He only has twenty minutes before his first meeting. He quickly closes his office door with a careless flick of his wand. He really can’t have any more distractions.

He hasn’t even worked his way through a single file when he is alerted to a presence outside of his office. It’s a spell standard to all the auror offices – a small orb on Harry’s desktop lights up when there is someone at his door. It can also briefly light up when people walk past his door too closely as well. It’s usually not particularly useful.

However, this time, the orb has been alight for significantly longer than usual and there has been no knock. Harry leans back in his chair and raises his wand, curious to know just who is waiting outside his office. When the door swings open, he is floored to find Draco Malfoy, of all people, standing in his doorway.

Malfoy’s presence immediately brings back a flood of memories and feelings that Harry isn’t sure how to deal with. There was a peculiar moment after the trials where Harry had had the strangest desire to kiss Malfoy’s lips. They had looked so soft and red and beautiful. But he hadn’t of course because it wasn’t the right time and Malfoy had been in a vulnerable state and not to mention, it wouldn’t have made any sense at all. Now though, Harry can’t help but again notice Malfoy’s lips.

Harry can’t appreciate them for long, however, because Malfoy’s face quickly devolves into a scowl. “Potter.”

Harry wants to laugh. With that expression on his face, it is almost like Malfoy is playing a caricature of himself. He replies in the only way he knows how. “Malfoy.”

This must not be the reply Malfoy is looking for because his face shows even further irritation, which Harry thinks is really pushing the limits of scowling. “Think this is funny, do you?” He asks.

Harry straightens in his seat, starting to feel a little uncertain. “Er…no?” He answers, not sure of the right answer. It finally hits him all at once that Draco Malfoy is in his office, or at least, hovering just outside of it. “Malfoy, what do you want?”

When Malfoy doesn’t answer immediately, Harry can’t help himself from speculating. _Did his mother force him to make amends? Did he mean to visit someone else and accidentally stumble across Harry’s office? Is he here to fight?_ Harry hopes not. He really doesn’t fancy duelling with Draco Malfoy. They’re not in high school any more. Duelling isn’t nearly as much fun when you know what it’s like to actually fight for your life.

Malfoy is looking around uncomfortably and Harry wonders why he is still just standing in the doorway. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Malfoy asks rudely when he turns back to Harry.

“Oh right, sure. Come in if you want.” Harry tries to say politely but inside he is rolling his eyes. If Malfoy wants to insist on Harry using manners, he might want to do the same himself.

When Malfoy openly rolls his own eyes at Harry as he enters the office, Harry wishes he hadn’t been so polite. Malfoy looks around Harry’s office unsubtly, scanning the precarious tower of paperwork as his eyes sweep over Harry’s desk. Harry has the distinct feeling he is being judged, and not positively.

“So, Malfoy, what do you want?” Harry asks again, eager to get to the bottom of Malfoy’s rather unexpected appearance.

His question is greeted with more silence. Malfoy is pacing his office, ignoring the spare chair for visitors completely. Harry isn’t even sure if Malfoy heard the question. He notices Malfoy’s hand angling towards his left pocket, where Harry is quite certain Malfoy’s wand is stored. Harry’s eyes dart to his own wand where it lies on the desk in front of him. Still, the silence continues. Harry can take it no longer.

“Er…Malfoy? Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

“To see you, obviously,” Malfoy replies instantly, his tone bitter and condescending.

Harry closes his eyes and sighs in frustration. He really doesn’t have time to have this conversation with Malfoy. He wishes Malfoy would just talk to him instead of constantly throwing spikes his way. It’s almost as if he’s in the field. “Look Malfoy, I have a meeting in ten, so if you’re here for a reason, can you please get to it?”

“Oh I see. The boy who lived is too busy to talk to a Death Eater.”

Harry opens his eyes to find Malfoy scowling nastily again. For Merlin’s sake. “No? That’s not it at all. I really do have –“

“I get it, Potter,” interrupts Malfoy. “You must think me so beneath you.”

Harry can’t believe he is having this conversation. Despite Malfoy’s rude behaviour, Harry has someone insulted him. “Malfoy, I – “

“Please Potter,” Malfoy interrupts _again_ , “you may have everyone else here fooled but I see right through your little hero act. I’m sure you only spoke at my trial to cement your position as _Saint_ Potter, the – “

“What are you – “

“Potter, I know what you think of my family, what you think of me. I’d say we’re not the only prejudice ones. You – “

“Oh fuck off, Malfoy,” Harry yells, maybe a little unwisely, but he can’t help it. Malfoy knows how to push his buttons and make him angry. A year of learning to control his temper isn’t enough to remain calm while Malfoy stands there berating him.

As soon as Malfoy moves his arm, Harry’s wand is already in his hand, ready physically, although certainly not mentally, for a duel. When Malfoy finally brandishes his own wand, Harry can’t feel a little smug at the look of surprise on Malfoy’s face that Harry’s is already raised.

“Don’t test me, Potter,” Malfoy threatens, his wand arm visibly shaking.

“You’re going to attack me in the Ministry of Magic? In the Magical Law Enforcement division?” Harry asks, hoping against all hope that it will dissuade Malfoy from continuing. He doesn’t fancy harming Malfoy, or getting hurt himself, and he can only imagine what the paperwork will be like for an in-office duelling injury.

Clearly battling with his pride, Malfoy slowly lowers his wand. Thank Merlin. Harry hopes this means Malfoy is ready to have a calm conversation and explain his purpose here. Before Harry can pose another question to Malfoy, however, he is bolting from the office. Harry instinctively follows him out the door and out to the elevator lobby but he is too slow. The last he sees of him is Malfoy huffing privately to himself as the elevator doors ding shut between them.


	2. Day Two: Tuesday

To say that Harry is a little thrown from Malfoy’s surprise appearance and sudden disappearance yesterday is an understatement. It has stolen his concentration, stepped on his common sense and completely ruined his work routine. Which is why instead of working on the magical pile of paperwork on his desk – which has already increased in size another 10%  since the previous day – Harry is allowing himself a coffee break with his best friend, Ron Weasley, if only a small one, so he can talk even more about Malfoy.

He’d already explained exactly what had happened to Hermione and Ron during their lunch the previous day, but he can’t help but drag it out further. It is the first encounter in over a year that has given him a justifiable reason to talk about Malfoy again. Harry could hardly mention to Ron and Hermione that time a month ago he saw the side of Malfoy's face at a popular apparition spot, or the time four months ago when he’d walked past him at Gringotts, or even that time nine months ago when he caught (and promptly lost) Malfoy’s eye at The Leaky Cauldron one night. They weren’t notable enough to mention without it seeming like Harry was bringing them up just for the sake of bringing them up (which he desperately wanted to). But this, Malfoy turning up at his office, yelling at him, raising his wand, and then leaving without any questions answered, this is what he’d been waiting for: the perfect excuse to talk about Draco Malfoy again, and he certainly isn’t going to waste it.

Just as he reaches the end of the bitter coffee Ron had brought up from the Ministry café, Harry also senses their conversation about Malfoy naturally ending. There’s only so many times he can explain what happened. But Harry, at least, isn’t finished. “I wonder if he’d planned to pull his wand on me all along. In the Ministry of Magic of all places. I wonder how much he actually thought that through.” Harry says aloud with a short laugh to disguise his intense curiosity with mocking.

Ron sighs, Harry can tell his friend has reached the limit of talking about Malfoy. Shame Harry doesn’t seem to have one. “Harry,” he says seriously, “this is _Malfoy_ we’re talking about. Did you think he came over to have tea and gossip? I mean, what do you expect from a slimy little git – “

“Ron,” interrupts Harry automatically, “please don’t call him that.” With Ron’s reaction so far, Harry is glad he hasn’t mentioned Draco Malfoy’s lips. That might be too much.

“Why not?” asks Ron. “He came into your office, insulted you, and pulled a wand on you. It’s not as if he’s changed.”

Yes, he probably hasn’t, it’s true, but that doesn’t stop Harry from optimistically – and unwisely – hoping for the opposite. The very fact Malfoy turned up in his office seems to mean that _something_ has changed, whether it be Malfoy himself or something else. He sighs. It is his last hope. “”Yes, well I seriously doubt he came all the way here just to duel me. He must have his reasons.”

Ron’s laughter at this isn’t particularly comforting. “Malfoy never had a reason for picking fights. That’s just what he does. What else would he want to see you for?”

It stings. Harry knows exactly what he wants Malfoy to want to see him for. Trouble is, there is no way the stars could align so perfectly as to allow Malfoy to want the same thing. That would be a miracle. Still, miracles happen right? Even as he thinks it, Harry knows he’s a fool. “I don’t know. Something. He must want something. I just wish I knew what it was.”

“Maybe he came to beg for a job. I hear he and his mother aren’t too popular anymore…”

“I doubt I’ll ever see Malfoy beg.” Harry pictures Malfoy getting on his knees, and immediately getting back up to wipe the dust off his knees and complain how dirty the floor is. He laughs.

“He might not have a choice,” Ron continues. “The spoiled ferret can’t rely on his daddy dearest anymore.”

Harry looks up at Ron sharply. He’s used to Ron insulting Malfoy, there was plenty of that at Hogwarts, and it all came out again yesterday, but this seems colder, somehow.

“Don’t look at me like that, Harry,” Ron says, waving his hand. “The Malfoys deserve everything they got and the branch doesn’t fall far from the tree I’m sure…”

Harry feels his temper rising inside him, his heartbeat quickening. Usually only Malfoy angers him so quickly. “Not everyone had a loving family growing up like you.” He is surprised how aggressively his words come out and it is enough to tug him back to the ground, and remind him who he is talking to. Ron, his best friend.

“You turned out alright,” says Ron slowly, and Harry starts to feel bad until he follows it with: “And speaking of my family…”

“Ron,” Harry warns knowing exactly where this is going and not in the mood to have the same conversation yet again.

Ron must not value his life because he barrels on anyway. “I don’t understand why you can’t just kiss and make up? You two belong together.”

 _Belong together?_ It’s a bit of a stretch. “Ron. Have you even spoken to Ginny?” Harry wonders if she gets the same pushy treatment from Ron or if he is a special case. He’ll have to ask her at their dinner next week. “We’ve already worked it out and we’re both happy apart.”

Ron huffs. “But that’s not how it’s supposed to go. You were supposed to be my brother!”

Harry softens. As much he can’t stand talking about this with Ron (again), he knows it comes from a good place. “I’m still your brother whether I marry your sister or not. You’ll always be family to me.” Harry says, and it’s true of course. The Weasleys had been more of a family to Harry than anyone else in his life, he could never think of them, or Ron, any different.

For Harry, this seems like the end of the conversation and he almost breathes a sigh of relief but Ron tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong with Ginny?” He asks. It’s not the first time. However luckily this time it’s less of an accusation and more of question.

“It’s not Ginny,” he says because it’s really not. “It’s me and Ginny together that’s wrong.”

“Why?” Ron asks, and it’s suspicious now. Damn.

“Can we not get into this again? I don’t want to talk about it.” Harry says quickly.

Ron’s mouth opens and closes again, like he is hesitating. When it opens again Harry wishes it had stayed close. “Was it the sex?” He asks almost sympathetically.

Harry’s face heats up immediately. How can Ron ask him that, in broad daylight, in his work office! Especially about his own sister? It’s uncomfortable. What is he supposed to reply to that? _How_ can he reply to a question like that? Luckily, or unluckily, depending on the perspective, he doesn’t have to because they are interrupted by a loud, unmistakable snort.

Harry’s eyes dart to the orb on his desk, it’s glowing. How long had it been glowing? Useless thing. Had wizards not heard of doorbells?

“Who’s there?” calls our Ron, obviously not as attuned to Malfoy’s voice as Harry, or his snorts. Harry can recognise Malfoy just from a snort? Jeez. This will be a secret he takes to the grave.

Worried Malfoy might run away, Harry quickly picks up his wand to open the door but Ron is already there, swinging it wide open manually. “Malfoy. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Waiting for Potter, obviously,” Malfoy replies with his trademark smirk. Harry wants to giggle at that – yes, giggle like a bloody schoolchild! – but manages to stop himself, thank MERLIN.

“You were eavesdropping on us!” Yells Ron which brings two things to Harry’s attention. One, that he needs to get Ron out of here, or risk having Malfoy be the one to leave (Sorry Ron, priorities), and two: How much had Malfoy heard??? He certainly heard the sex question – how mortifying – but worse, had he heard them discussing him? In this moment, Harry can’t remember a single thing he’d said, he only knows that it wasn’t for Malfoy’s ears.

Malfoy hasn’t moved from his position in the doorway, leaning far too casually to actually be considered casual. “If you’re not going to bother using a silencing charm, or even close the door, I can hardly be blamed for overhearing as I stand in a public corridor, Weasley.”

Malfoy turns to Harry and raises his eyebrows. Harry hurries forward quickly. He’s not sure how much longer Ron will be able to refrain from punching Malfoy and if he’s honest, he’s very excited to have Malfoy return to his office for the second day in a row, and it’s only slightly about being distracted from paperwork. “Er…You should come in,” Harry says over Ron’s shoulder far less eloquently than he’d like.

Ron turns to him instantly. “He was just…you’re going to just let him…urgh…”

Harry can’t help but silently agree with Ron’s ramble. What the hell is he doing? Even so, he nudges Ron out the door gently, trying not to notice how easily Malfoy slips into the office to give him room. “It’s okay, Ron. I’ll find you later.”

Finally Ron gives in and exits, but not before sending a scowl in Malfoy’s direction. Harry shuts the door and casts a quiet silencing charm, wishing he had mastered the art of doing it wordlessly when it doesn’t go unnoticed by Malfoy. He turns around to raised eyebrows and tries to shrug nonchalantly. “What? It was a good point.”

“No one will come running if we start dueling.” Malfoy says, almost like a challenge. It makes Harry smile.

“Scared, Malfoy?”

“You wish.”

Harry laughs as he moves back to his desk, and takes a seat, waving his hand at Malfoy to take the visitor’s chair. Already their visit is more pleasant than the previous. Perhaps he might actually come away with answers this time. Perhaps he might get see how soft Malfoy’s lips really are. No, hold on. Of course not. What is he thinking?

Harry looks back to Malfoy who is still standing. Why is he hesitating? “It’s just a chair, Malfoy,” he says, “not a commitment.” _If it was, would you still sit?_ Harry wonders.

Malfoy finally takes a seat but he doesn’t look particularly happy about it. Harry suspects he should ask Malfoy a question but he can’t think of anything at all. Then a smirk starts to creep over Malfoy’s face and Harry knows what’s coming before the words hit him. “So…was it the sex?”

“I thought I just escaped that conversation. Don’t make me re-live it.” Harry says trying not to draw attention to his heated face, despite how blazingly obvious it is. Thankfully Malfoy doesn’t mention it.

“I’m not here to beg for a job.”

Merlin. What else had he heard? “I didn’t think you were. Er…how long were you listening?”

“Relax Potter, you didn’t say anything incriminating. “ – Harry breathes a sigh of relief internally – “Weasley, on the other hand…” Malfoy trails off with a scowl.

“There’s still some bad blood there. You stunt yesterday didn’t help too much of course.” Harry wonders if this a much too obvious segue. What he really wants to ask is why in Merlin’s name Malfoy is here and would he be interested in bringing those beautiful soft lips closer to Harry. The latter, of course, he certainly won’t ever ask.

Instead of taking the not so obvious segued lead in to explain why he’s here, Malfoy comes out with something unexpected. “You didn’t have to tell him.”

Harry is confused by this. Why wouldn’t he tell his best friends? Was his visit supposed to be private? If it was supposed to be private then maybe it was more to Malfoy than…no. Enough with the hopeful thoughts. They can only lead to disappointment.

“I tell my best friends everything and it was the”– _best_ – “most eventful part of the day.”

Malfoy has no reply to this it seems. Harry worries he has caused offence by telling his friends, although exactly why that’s an issue, he’s not so clear on. As the silence stretches on, Harry really feels as if he should be saying something. “So…” He starts ever so intelligently.

Malfoy’s eyes suddenly widen and Harry can’t help but think of the phrase: a deer in the headlights. “I’m sorry,” Malfoy murmurs and jumps up so quickly it’s as if his chair has caught fire. Harry surely has no time to catch Malfoy if the way he sprints from the office is anything to go by. He tries anyway with a quick leap of his desk and his own hurried dash down the corridor, but the elevator doors have already closed. Malfoy has disappeared on him again.


	3. Day Three: Wednesday

It’s too early. Much too early. Harry tries to ignore the pecking at his arm but it won’t go away. He reluctantly wrenches open his eyes and removes a letter from the small aggressive owl. His heart picks up upon reading it. He has been waiting for this.

He hurries to get ready, scrambling around for his pants, and completely ignoring his hairbrush. It’s not like he’ll have time to get to the office today so no chance of Malfoy catching him ungroomed. Wait – Malfoy.

Just before he leaves the apartment, Harry fishes out some blank parchment and hastily scrawls on it.

_I'm on a case today so I won't be in the office._

Is it hopeful thinking? Maybe, but he’d hate for Malfoy to turn up to an empty office. And he had turned up two days in a row – it was almost enough to be a pattern. Harry rereads his note one more time, all at once realising it may sound like a rejection of sorts. He adds another line.

_I'll be at my desk tomorrow morning._

Before he can reread it and talk himself out of the words, Harry rolls up the letter and passes it to his own owl, Aria. “Draco Malfoy,” he says slowly. Aria hoots a little too excitedly and flies out his open window. With the distance of Malfoy Manor, Harry is sure Malfoy will get the owl at a reasonable hour, once the sun has actually risen.

He would obsess over the letter a little longer but luckily he doesn’t have the time. He has some thieves to catch.


	4. Day Four: Thursday

Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to be back in the office today. He’d also be lying if he claimed it was about anything other than Draco Malfoy. As much as he enjoyed yesterday - the satisfaction of finally finishing a case – it certainly hasn’t been the highlight of his week so far, not when Malfoy has visited him twice, and will be visiting him for a third time today. At least, Harry assumes. Yes, he has still not received a reply to his owl yesterday but that doesn’t mean anything. Malfoy will show.

It’s exactly 9.37am when Harr’s confidence begins to falter. 10.14am when he starts to have niggling doubts. 11.01am when he has major doubts. 11.20am when he realises Malfoy isn’t coming. He isn’t coming. Harry tries to settle himself and concentrate on work but how can he? Malfoy isn’t coming. It’s 2.07pm when he has finally had enough. It’s 2.12pm when he arrives at Malfoy Manor after a quick apparition outside the Ministry.

Harry looks up at the towering gates of Malfoy Manor. Is he really here? He draws a large controlled breath. If Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater can visit him in the Auror offices, Harry Potter can visit him at Malfoy Manor. Besides it’s a long walk to the front door – plenty of time to reconsider and back out. With that safe thought, he pushes open the gate.

The journey across the Manor’s indulgent lawns to the double oak doors should feel much longer than it does. Harry would very much like to do a full walk around the perimeter of the house before landing back at this door. But he’s a Gryffindor. He’s supposed to be brave, and brave he can be for a single moment. He knocks on the door.

When it begins to open, Harry has a split second of panic, but it is wasted. It’s not Malfoy’s face that appears at the door (or course – Harry feels a fool for even thinking it) but the face of a cheery house-elf. She takes a deep bow before staring up at Harry with wide eyes.

“How can Verity help you, sir?” she asks.

“I’m here to see…Malfoy…er Draco Malfoy.” Harry says awkwardly, not sure of the proper conduct in these situations. Does he have to explain why he’s here? He doesn’t really have an answer for that, at least not one he can admit out loud. Although he probably should share his name at least. “You can tell him it’s Harry…Potter.” He tacks on as an afterthought.

Verity blinks up at him. “Mr Harry Potter? Master will be pleased to see you. Follow me. Follow me.”

“Pleased to see me?” Harry repeats a little too eagerly. What does she mean by that? The question unfortunately goes unanswered and Harry isn’t brave enough to ask again – he has already wasted his bravery knocking on the door. Instead he silently follows Verity through the extravagant entrance room of Malfoy Manor to an equally extravagant sitting room.

“Please sit. Can Verity get you anything?”

“No, thank you, Verity.”

She bows. “I will be advising Mr. Malfoy. Please wait here.”

Harry immediately stands when Verity leaves the room. He’s not really one to sit and wait. He prefers to take action. Although there’s not much he can do in this situation except wander around the Manor to find Malfoy, and he decides against that. It’s a little uncouth when he’s a guest in someone’s house, in _Malfoy’s_ house. So instead, he walks back and forth across the room impatiently. As long as he concentrates on the steps, and the steps alone, he can’t panic about what he might say to Malfoy.

A short cough brings him back to his surroundings and he looks up to the room’s entrance to find Malfoy already there. “Malfoy!” Harry immediately stills - he cannot concentrate on steps anymore.

“Potter,” Malfoy responds cooly with a nod, his hands in his pockets. Harry can’t help but wonder if Malfoy always looks this relaxed, this _good_ , at home. It doesn’t help with his nerves. He almost wishes Malfoy had appeared in his pajamas, or at least just a little unkempt.

Harry tries to regain some semblance of functionality. It was Malfoy who came to his office in the first place. He’s only here because of that, only countering Malfoy’s moves, if you can call them moves. Harry quite likes to think of them that way at least. Still. “You didn’t show this morning.”

“I have better things to do than visit you every day, Potter.”

Harry feels his face drop. “You didn’t respond to my owl.”

“Again, Potter, I have better things to do.”

If Malfoy wants to make him feel a fool, he has succeeded. He’s a fool for coming here, he’s a fool for reading into Malfoy’s visits, he’s a fool for ever having any feelings towards Draco Malfoy. Malfoy’s cruel and arrogant and selfish and dangerous. Except he wasn’t, not at the trials. He was timid and regretful and _vulnerable_. It had made Harry second guess everything he thought he knew about Malfoy. But it doesn’t make him any less of a fool. There’s no point staying only to be insulted. Harry turns to leave but a voice stops him.

“How was your case?”

“My case?” Harry repeats surprised, turning back to face Malfoy.

"Your Owl said you were out all day on a case. Did it…go well?" Malfoy asks, the words rushing out of his mouth all at once.

Harry has to blink a few times to comprehend Malfoy’s words. A conversation starter. It’s a clear invitation to stay longer from Malfoy, a clear indication he wants Harry to stay. And thank Merlin because Harry really wants to stay. He finally feels welcome enough to sink down into one of Malfoy’s sitting chairs. “We’ve been chasing a pair of dangerous thieves for a couple of weeks now. We had a tip off they were trading some dark artifacts yesterday and it turned out to be accurate for once. They were both caught.” He explains, looking up at Malfoy.

“Our hero saves the word again,” Malfoy replies with obvious sarcasm.

So they’re back to petty insults. Malfoy’s interest certainly didn’t last long.  If only Harry could understand what goes through Malfoy’s head. “Are you going to tell me why you turned up at my office twice for seemingly no reason?” Harry asks, starting to feel quite impatient. He has to know what is going on with Malfoy.

“Probably not,” Malfoy admits as he drops into the seat across from Harry.

Harry sighs. At least it’s an honest answer. “It’s nothing” – he searches for the word – “ _sinister_ ” – and immediately regrets it – “is it?”

Malfoy laughs, understandably, it was a stupid choice of words. “Nothing _sinister_ , Potter,” he says through his laughter and then seriously: “I promise.”

Harry’s impatience is temporarily sated. He finds that he _trusts_ Malfoy without thinking. It’s an odd but not unwelcome feeling. And if Malfoy has good intentions behind his visits, there’s no harm in Harry spending some time with him, is there? “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Or not. Harry tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. “Okay, well…if you’re going to visit the office again tomorrow, come at midday and we can have lunch?”

“What makes you think I’ll be visiting tomorrow?” Malfoy asks but he is smiling.

Thar smile gives Harry the kick he needs to be a little bolder. “Just hoping,” he says wanting Malfoy to understand his meaning. His boldness well and truly used up, Harry quickly makes his exit, his face bright red.


	5. Day Five: Friday

Harry is quite convinced he has the lay of the land. Malfoy wants something from him. What it is Harry still hasn’t figured out because it doesn’t matter. It means he is guaranteed more time with Malfoy and that is enough, because it seems Malfoy might actually enjoy his company just as Harry does his. Although the real test will be if he turns up for lunch. Harry is fairly confident that he will, but even that is not enough to quell his fear of the possibility that he won’t.

Provided Malfoy does show -  and Harry is very certain he will - what do they do for lunch? Harry usually packs his own or has a quick lunch in the Ministry Café with Ron & Hermione. But he can’t take Malfoy to the Ministry Café – the food is horrendous, and everyone will stare. He’d much rather be alone with Malfoy…just so they can _talk_ in private of course. Right. He knows exactly where they can go or rather _stay_.

On his way to work, Harry makes a slight detour to a small bakery on the outskirts of London. He can’t very well impress Malfoy with his standard homemade peanut butter sandwiches. He stands at the counter staring at the various fancy paninis and wraps. He doesn’t want to look like he has gone to _too_ much trouble. After spending an embarrassingly long time at the counter, he finally settles for the most basic looking sandwiches and pastries, just so that he can leave. He isn’t convinced he has made the right choice but it’s something. Now Malfoy just has to turn up.

When he arrives at his office, he has to blink a few times to take in the sight at his desk. Despite making solid progress through his leaning tower of paperwork the day previously, the paper has multiplied into two stacks, albeit one much shorter than the other. He immediately scans through the newer papers, hoping they’ve flown into the wrong office. Unfortunately not. If he’d know the thieves he caught on Wednesday would come with so much paperwork, he might have just let them escape. Except he’s Harry Potter. Of course he wouldn’t do that.

He sighs and takes his seat, resigning himself to a long day of admin. At least he has lunch to look forward to.

Before he can even get through one document, Harry is distracted by a paper memo gliding into his office. Thankful for the reprieve from work, Harry eagerly opens up the memo, hoping it isn’t another case, despite his love of casework. He needs to get on top of his towers first! It isn’t. It’s worse, or perhaps better, but probably worse.

It’s a standard note from Reception alerting him that he has an owl in the mail room. It’s Malfoy cancelling lunch. Somehow, Harry just knows it. He’s on his feet immediately heading down to the mail room. Maybe he can convince Malfoy otherwise, but what can he say? _Have lunch with me because I think I might like to kiss you?_ It doesn’t have much of a ring to it.

The owl Malfoy has sent is small but with a regal posture that would be more appropriate for a larger, broader owl. Despite his panic, Harry smiles. It’s exactly the type of owl he’d have pegged Malfoy to have. He reaches out to pet it and if Harry’s not mistaken, the owl rolls its eyes at Harry and holds out their leg expectantly.

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He quickly detaches the small letter, and rolls it open, ready to accept his fate.

_Potter, where are we having lunch?_

Both the relief that’s it’s not a cancellation and the brashness of Malfoy’s words make Harry laugh aloud. He scrambles around hurriedly for some parchment , not wanting to leave Malfoy waiting too long. Once parchment and quill are finally in his hands, he realises he doesn’t quite know what to say. He can’t tell Malfoy the actual plan for lunch and risk if not showing up at all.  He looks back to Malfoy’s note for inspiration. There’s no floweriness to it. It’s direct and to the point, not even signed. This gives Harry an idea. He smiles to himself, and fancies his response revenge in return for Malfoy making him think he had cancelled.

_Who is this?_

Harry’s almost tempted to leave it at that, but knowing Malfoy, the jerk might not realise it’s a joke, get mad, and not turn up for lunch. It’s exactly the kind of thing Malfoy would do. Merlin, why does Harry like him anyway? He pens a second note on a separate piece of parchment.

_Just kidding, Malfoy. Everyone else calls me Harry. Don’t dress up for lunch, I’m wearing jeans. – Harry_

He hands both to Malfoy’s owl, instructing it not to let Malfoy see the second note until after he’s read the first, lest the joke be ruined. The owl stares at him and nods briefly before flying off. “And make sure you take the floo!” He calls after it.

Harry considers heading back to his office but he is hopeful Malfoy will reply, and there really isn’t much point tracking all the way upstairs just to come back to the mail room again, is there? Also, there’s no paperwork in the mailroom, at least none of Harry’s that is. So all in all, it makes sense just to wait, doesn’t it? Unless Malfoy doesn’t reply, that is. But he will. He has to respond to that provocation. That’s how Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy operate.

When a reply isn’t immediately forthcoming, Harry realises waiting wasn’t his best idea. How long does he wait? What is a reasonable amount of time and when does that amount cross into desperate and pathetic territory? The very fact that he is now wondering that probably means he has surpassed the reasonable time limit. So…he has nothing to lose by remaining. It’s sound logic. Besides, no one else, least of all Malfoy, know he is here waiting in the mailroom, and he can easily deal with his own opinion of himself. It’s called denial and distraction.

An owl flies in the room, stealing Harry’s eye instantly but it’s too large and far too timid. Harry drops his head in disappointment. He has been reduced to a fool desperately awaiting Malfoy’s reply. It’s sad.

It’s not until almost half an hour has passed when Malfoy’s owl returns. Harry takes the note slowly, in an effort to repel his own eagerness. It only serves to irritate his impatience.  Malfoy’s note is short.

_You bastard. I’m dressing up for lunch._

Harry smiles. Half an hour for two sentences? Is Malfoy deliberately trying to destroy him? His own response is ready within seconds.

_I wouldn’t expect anything less. - Harry_

He gives the note to Malfoy’s owl immediately. He certainly doesn’t want Malfoy to wait as long as him and feel like an utter fool, that is, if Malfoy is waiting at all. Harry suspects – and hopes! – he is.

On his way back to the office – he knows better than to wait this time – Harry drops by Reception and has Malfoy’s name added to his visitor list, right under Ron Weasley. He’s not quite sure how Malfoy made it up to the Auror offices previously and suspects he probably doesn’t want to know. At least now Malfoy can visit him legitimately, and potentially (hopefully) regularly.

The rest of the morning passes by slowly. Harry makes surprising progress through his paperwork all the way up to 11.55am. It’s at this point that he realises that Malfoy may appear at any moment. They had agreed upon lunch but not a time. He curses himself for not being more specific. All this waiting and not knowing will be his undoing. He reads through the document in front of him for a second time, not absorbing anything.

During his third attempted reading, Harry notices footsteps outside, which isn’t unusual, people are always walking past his office, but there is a distinctive clipping sound to Malfoy’s steps, something Harry suspects is unique to expensive and un-worn in shoes, and the current steps definitely have a certain clip to them. He resists the impulse to look up in anticipation. He’s left the door open for Malfoy’s sake and he’d rather it not appear as if he’s been listening out for him, which he hasn’t of course, but it might _seem_ like that is all.

The clipping ceases. Harry keeps his eyes trained downwards. Only when Malfoy drawls his name distinctively does he allow himself to look up slowly.

“Malfoy,” he says, not able to stifle the smile that takes over his face, “You came!”

“I thought it wise not to stand the famous Harry Potter up twice. I’ve heard he’s defeated a dark wizard of two.”

Harry laughs.  He is pleased to find Malfoy in a good mood. Perhaps Harry’s not the only one excited for lunch. He looks over Malfoy curiously. True to his word, he has dressed up for lunch, like he would for anything. His suit is clearly tailored as it fits Malfoy perfectly. Harry wonders if Malfoy wears a suit to the grocery store, then realises Malfoy probably doesn’t do his own shopping anyway.

Realising he’s been staring at Malfoy’s suit, and consequently his body, for an unexplainable amount of time, he looks back up to Malfoy’s smirking face – yes, he definitely noticed – and hastily covers with a sarcastic comment, “Thanks for taking my advice.”

“I look good in a suit,” Malfoy says with a shrug.

Harry smiles and nods in agreement. He certainly does.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going for lunch?” Malfoy asks, still leaning against Harry’s doorframe, as if he might run away again at any time.

Harry can’t help but smile again – Malfoy must think him very silly by now – at Malfoy’s assumption. He will enjoy surprising Malfoy. “Who said we were going out for lunch?”

Harry is pleased when Malfoy’s eyebrows jump up his forehead. “You can’t be serious,” He says, almost mockingly but he finally takes a step into the office all the same.

This gives Harry the opportunity to close the door and cast a silencing charm. Instead of casting the spells from his desk, Harry walks to the door to close it manually. It’s not for the opportunity to be closer to Malfoy of course. It’s just that – okay there’s no other reason.

“I try not to go out in public often,” Harry explains. “The Daily Prophet don’t have much to report on these days it would seem – “

“So you’re ashamed to be seen with me?”

Harry turns back to Malfoy as he sits down. Malfoy’s arms are crossed, those eyebrows fallen back down. Shit! “Oh no, not that.” _I just wanted to be alone with you._ “I try not to go out in public with anybody, or by myself. It’s not…I’m not ashamed.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. Still, it seems to appease Malfoy at least.

“Oh,” Malfoy says dropping his arms, eyebrows returning to respectable heights as he takes a seat across from Harry, finally no longer looking like he’s ready to leave. “So do we start on the paper first?”

Harry blinks back at Malfoy. “What?”

“To eat, Potter,” Malfoy teases. “What are we eating, if not the paperwork on your desk?”

Harry stares at his leaning tower of paperwork thoughtfully. Perhaps he should have hidden it before Malfoy arrived. Does it make him look unprofessional? On the other hand, it might make him seem busy and important…Regardless, it’s too late now. Harry snaps himself out of his pointless thoughts and pulls out his wand. He repeats the incantations he has uttered countless times before, barely registering the Latin words.

When he finishes, they are surrounded by a large stretch of green field, with the edges of a wild forest visible in the distance. Even though it’s not part of the spell, Harry can smell grass and hear the buzzing of a gentle wind. Harry smiles to himself.

“Potter, where are we?” Malfoy’s panicked voice breaks through Harry’s peace. In hindsight, he probably should have expected this.

“We’re still in my office.” Harry advises Malfoy gently, who is up on his feet, looking around the room suspiciously. “It’s just a perception spell.”

He gives Malfoy time to reevaluate their surroundings. The office is still visible if you’re looking for it and he’s sure Malfoy will be comforted by this. Finally, Malfoy retakes his seat. “You’ve done this before.”

Almost every day. “Like I said, I don’t much like going out in public, but I also don’t like being stuck in my office all day.”

Malfoy glances back at Harry’s desk, the leaning tower not disguised by the perception spell. “So we _are_ eating the paperwork?” He asks.

“Oh!” Harry feels himself blushing. As much as he has enjoyed surprising Malfoy, this next part is a little more telling, and he’s not so confident about it yet. “I’ve sort of made a picnic,” he mutters, and pulls out the embarrassing basket from under his desk. It had seemed like a clever idea at the time. Now as he pulls it up, he realises inviting another adult to a picnic is the uncoolest thing he could possibly have done.

He watches Malfoy’s face carefully. He is staring at the basket like he can’t believe Harry would bring out anything so stupid. Harry can’t believe it either. What was he thinking? This is Draco Malfoy, and Harry’s over here pulling out a fucking picnic basket? It’s like he is just asking for humiliation. Harry goes into damage control. “If you don’t want to, we don’t – “

“I want,” interrupts Malfoy and he’s certainly not staring at the basket anymore. Harry freezes, their eyes locked. Merlin, this is more embarrassing than the basket, although at least now its shared between them.

Harry looks away and starts hastily pulling out the food from the basket, trying not to think about Malfoy’s eyes on him. “It isn’t much,” he says, wondering now whether he should have gone for the paninis. Malfoy comes from a wealthy family. Of course he would expect paninis!

Harry peeks back up at Malfoy who is still watching him. Dammit! Malfoy smiles, and it’s gentle and sweet, and exactly the kind of thing to make Harry blush even further, as if he weren’t already embarrassed enough.

“I would have been fine with the paper, to be honest,” Malfoy jokes, his eyes finally leaving Potter to glance once again at that stupid leaning tower of paperwork. Harry is definitely going to get that thing moved.

Harry laughs, thankful for the light-hearted joke to segue from the embarrassing panini-less basket fiasco. “It’s all yours. Merlin knows, it would save me a lot of boring work.”

“Do you like working here?” Malfoy asks and Harry can’t tell if he’s interested or just being polite. Perhaps if he was more obvious?

“Usually. It’s been a bit quiet over the last few months” – _it hasn’t_ – “although things have picked up this week.” Harry looks up at Malfoy. _Take the bait. Take the bait. Let me know you’re interested too._

“Right, you caught those thieves on Wednesday,” Malfoy replies completely straight-faced.

Harry is quick to nod. Perhaps he wasn’t obvious enough, or has he just been rejected? It’s hard to tell with Malfoy. “Yes, yes, the thieves, of course. It’s good to get away from the desk.”

Malfoy leans in towards him – _so he is interested?_ “So, you like to get away from the desk, but at the same time, you don’t like to leave the desk in fear of journalists?” He questions.

“Something like that.”

“Thought you’d be used to it by now. You’ve been a celebrity since you were born.” Malfoy remarks in a snide tone reminiscent of their Hogwarts days. _So, he’s not interested?_

“It’s been worse since the battle.”

“Destroying Voldemort for a second time really upped your profile. If you’d known that, I guess you might have just stayed home instead.” Malfoy says with a smile and then winks, _actually winks_ at Harry. _Oh merlin, maybe he is interested_. Why must Malfoy be so confusing?

“Yes, well, too late for that now unfortunately.” Harry chooses to laugh at the comment but he doesn’t address the wink. How is he supposed to address that bloody wink? Malfoy winked at him. _winked_. It’s too much.

Harry is grateful for the distraction of the food in front of him. It gives him an excuse not to look at Malfoy, pretty, smiling, _winking_ Malfoy. He’s not in his right mind after being winked at, if he looks up now, he might do something stupid like kiss the twat. And he doesn’t even know for sure if Malfoy is even interested.

“Do you…” Malfoy pauses, Harry keeps his head firmly planted downwards, and restarts, “Do you have a lot of picnics in the park?” His tone is light and airy and not at all like Malfoy. _He is so interested._

Harry finally lifts his head and locks eyes with Malfoy. It wouldn’t be so bad if he kissed him right now. He’s fairly confident Malfoy would kiss him right back. “I usually eat lunch alone, Malfoy.” He says instead, his desire for clear communication winning out over irrational urges for once.

“And dinner?” Malfoy asks immediately. _Interested._

“Why? You offering?” The temptation to jump up and dance is strong, which is particularly odd as Harry has never enjoyed dancing. But he has to do something. Draco Malfoy is interested in him. So very obviously interested in him. Unquestionably interested in _him,_ Harry Potter. It’s brilliant. A miracle. All Malfoy has to do is say yes and they have date, a second date you could say. But dinner. It’s more than lunch. It’s dinner, its –

A knock at the door pulls Harry from his excitement. Fuck. He pulls out his wand and removes the perception spell – It can be dangerous for people to walk into, especially with the state of Harry’s office – and opens the door with a wave of his wand.

“Harry,” says his colleague, Ryan, from the doorway, “We’ve just had a report that Gibbons has been spotted in muggle London. We need you to help track him.”

_Fuck Gibbons_ , Harry wants to say. He isn’t interested in tracking dark wizards right now. He is about to get asked out for dinner. “Right, I’ll meet you in transport in two,” is what he says instead, because he’s not a complete hedonist, and he does want to keep his job after all.

“I’m so sorry, Malfoy, I have to go,” Harry says once Ryan has left. Malfoy doesn’t say anything, leaving their almost dinner hanging in the air unspoken. Right, well Harry’s the Gryffindor so here goes nothing. He grabs some spare parchment from his desk and hurriedly writes his address, conscious he should have left straight away with Ryan. He hates leaving his team waiting.

“What’s this?” Malfoy asks when Harry hands it to him, not even bothering to read it.

Harry blushes. He was hoping he could make a dramatic exit without having to explain anything, but clearly that is only possible in the movies. Fuck. How can he still feel this shy _knowing_ Malfoy is interested in him? It’s absurd. “Well, it’s the weekend tomorrow so I won’t be at my desk, so in case you…er…still want to visit…anyway, have to run. Bye Malfoy.” And with that, Harry finally makes his dramatic exit, hoping Malfoy doesn’t notice how his coat gets stuck on the door knob on the way out.

**Author's Note:**

> I have already completed this story in Malfoy's perspective at:
> 
>   [How to Apologise to Harry Potter in 10 Days (18k)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468365e)
> 
> While you are awaiting for an update, please check out my other Drarry fics:
> 
> [I Hex You, You Hex Me (4k)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8533750)  
> [The 9 Times Harry Potter Rescued Draco Malfoy (1k)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9664124)  
> [Hot Tea (13k)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10259276)  
> [Dangerously Boiling Explicit Hot Tea (5k)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293503)
> 
>  [ my twitter](https://twitter.com/Queen_of_Thyme)  
> [my tumblr](http://queenofthyme.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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